CHAPTER 30
REASON FOR LIVING
Four months into my pregnancy, my stomach was starting to bulge. Ichabod and I thought it best to keep the pregnancy a secret from the town for as long as possible. The only people who knew were the Doctor and midwife. And even they, did not know the whole secret. Katrina's death was never mentioned. It was if she never existed, like she was a nightmare in the distant past. Ichabod was never the same after that day. A part of him died with Katrina and I believed it was too painful for him to remember and realize his wife did, indeed, possess black magic. He trembled frequently, his insomnia worsened considerably, and he always seemed disconnected and distant. Of course, this all improved in time, but Ichabod was never the same. I comforted him as much as I could, but I soon grew to realize that there was a vacant place in his heart that I could never fill, and I accepted that.
I felt the walls smothering around me and I beat my fists furiously against the door. The white light became intensely brighter under the crack and I screamed when I heard the wails of an infant. I threw myself against the door until it finally burst open. And standing there, the white light illuminating around his body was Ichabod, smiling at me and holding a little girl in his arms.
Ichbod's hand ran through my sweat-drenched hair, soothing me yet again from another dream that haunted my slumber. "Ichabod, I saw you. You were smiling and holding our baby." He looked at me, his eyes filled with longing. "I've been thinking," I continued trying to hint a smile.
"What of?" He asked, the dark bags gleaming under his eyes.
"Us…marriage. Not that I'm purpos– suggesting anything, but hasn't the thought crossed your mind?"
"No," his fingers traced over the gold band on his left hand. "I've already lost the love of my life. There's no purpose…" When he whispered those words, I felt my heart begin to break.
The midwife laid the small bundle in my arms, and tears rolled down my cheeks as I stared into the little heart shaped face of my daughter. Her blue eyes were wide as she looked at me, her mother. Every moment prior to this was nonexistent. In my arms, I was holding my life – my flesh, my blood.
"Shall I fetch the Constable?" The midwife asked. I nodded and it was hardly a moment later when Ichabod entered the room. He looked as if he had endured the hard labor of birth instead of me.
"Meet your daughter, Ichabod." I smiled handing him the baby. He took her carefully into his arms, but it was obvious he had never held a child before. "She's beautiful," he whispered stroking her black patch of hair. She has your eyes." He looked at me and tears brimmed his own. Then, all of a sudden, our daughter reached up with her small little hand and brought it to her father's cheek. He gasped, but then smiled a smile full of love and wonderment, a smile that let me know everything was going to be okay.
"I think you ought to let your daughter and her mother rest, Constable," the midwife said taking the baby into her arms. Ichabod only nodded and made his way out the door, shutting it behind him. "I'm a father," we heard him exclaim outside and then a light thud as he fainted.
Placing my child back into my arms, the midwife smiled at me. I looked at the little bundle of life in my arms. She looked so much like Ichabod and the love I had for her was something I couldn't even begin to describe. I was holding the perfect daughter in my arms.